Go Home Again
by jessiborton
Summary: Hey guys! This is my 1st ever Bethyl fanfiction and its COMPLETELY AU. I tried to stay in their characters (5) and tried to be similar but there's no walkers included. Please like, review, etc. and I hope you enjoy! *Beth Greene's coming home. Or at least tries. When her broken down Buick tried to ruin her way back to her family farm she has to find a way to go home again. How?*


"Oh no…" Beth let out a deep wavering sigh as she watched the grey hot smoke billow out of the front of her old Buick. $1200. She had just put $1200 into this old rolling zombie and she just now finally got the hint- it _wanted_ to die.

She maneuvered the car to the side of the road and put it in park. Beth white knuckled the steering wheel and took in a deep breath. She was on one of the many back roads of Macon County, Georgia probably miles from civilization and her cell phone had died back in South Carolina, the charger somewhere in the luggage in the truck. She glanced over at the map sitting on her passenger seat and grabbed it ruefully then bounded out of the car.

The thick Georgia air unwelcomely caressed her skin as the locusts' songs blared through the trees reminding her just what she'd come back to. Beth had been away at college up in Maine for 3 years and had been back to Georgia exactly 3 times since. Somehow her father had managed to get her to come back for the longest stretch of time yet to help on the farm for the summer. Shaun and Maggie both had prior engagements this time around and it technically _was_ her turn.

Beth narrowed her eyes towards the car and promptly kicked the tire, "Thanks a lot, Franny."

The car let out a hiss in response making her jump back. She glared at it again then turned her back to the old clunker, looking down at the map in her hands. She hated maps but her GPS was on her phone which wasn't helping her any. She scanned the paper and found where she was then traced the roadway with her eyes. There was a small town up the road some 8 miles. She calculated it in her head: if it took her 20 minutes to walk a mile she'd be there in… over an hour. She shook her head and let out a bitter laugh. She had no other choice.

She folded the map up and shoved it in her back pocket of her jeans, already feeling them begin to stick to her skin. She opened the car door up and grabbed her water bottle, sunglasses, and purse. She took the keys out of the ignition and locked the car, "I should just leave you here," She quipped, "Never helped me anyways."

She tossed the keys in her purse nevertheless and got walking. She had never really been in this part of Georgia. Her hometown was about 15 miles south of here and growing up she never had much of a need to wander anywhere else; that is until she went to college. Beth had finally been able to branch out when she got to University. She'd majored in sociology and minored in music. On weekends she'd meet with her Greek sisters or preform at one of the coffee bars right off campus. She took trips to New York and Jersey during short breaks in the semester- it was amazing. She missed her family but she didn't miss Georgia.

The rumble of a truck brought her back to the present. She quickly looked over her shoulder to see a blue 4x4 barreling down the road, smoke bars hoisted out the back. She stopped and held her hand up to wave them down but let it fall as the monster truck zoomed right past her. Where was the hospitality that the south was so well known for?

She rolled her eyes and waved them off, promptly displaying her middle finger as the truck got smaller and smaller, vanishing around the country corner. Beth walked and walked for what felt like hours- the humidity plaguing her and her water running out more than halfway through the trip. After she made it to the town sign that informed her she was in Grady, Georgia where the population was '340' she smiled slightly and trudged past, patting the sign for good measure.

When she had finally made it into the settlement she didn't have to look too far to find help. The shops of the town were all placed along a mile stretch of the main road she had walked in on- there was a grocery, two gas stations across from each other, a small hardware store, a diner and a general store. She walked into the closet gas station and was greeted by the sweet relief of air conditioning. Behind the counter was a young man- about five years younger than her looking very much invested in a comic book about dead people and blowing a bubble with pink chewing gum. She walked to the counter and placed her fingers gently on the cool surface, "'Scuse me…"

The boy looked up wearily at her, "Can I help you?"

Beth smiled politely, "Can you point me to the nearest mechanic?"

"'bout three miles down the road in Princeton. Think it's called Ande's Auto body."

The cashier turned his attention immediately back to the comic book. Beth stood awkwardly for a moment then politely tapped the counter, "Trouble is I don't have a car to make it to Princeton."

"Mhmm," His slow drawl made it evident he wasn't paying attention. The sleigh bells above the convenience store doors rang making her turn her attention towards the sound. An older man who looked a little rough for wear, wearing a greasy once-white tank top, button up with pineapples, and dirty cargo pants pushed up beside her at the counter.

"How ya doin' Kyle?" He looked over at her and winked, the toothpick lying on his lip.

The boy looked up, annoyed, "What you want Merle?"

"Marlboro Reds shorts, skull, and a forty." The man named Merle turned his attention towards her, a small smile played on the corner of his mouth making her uneasy, "How you doin' sweetheart?"

Beth smiled weakly at him and subconsciously moved a little ways away from him, "Fine thanks."

She felt his gaze rake over her like hot coals. The cashier laid down the chew and cigarettes, "Go get the forty yourself. You gonna pay me this time?"

Merle chuckled and pushed off from the counter to walk to the coolers that were placed along the back wall. Beth shifted uncomfortably and cleared her throat, "All's I really need is the name of a cab or somethin'."

"We don't have taxi's here." The boy looked at her passively and shrugged, "I got a bike I can loan you. But I need it back by the end of the day. $20 bucks; cash."

Beth ran a hand over her forehead and sighed again. She was backed into a hard corner. Beth formed her mouth in a straight line and nodded, "Thanks. I would appreciate the help."

Merle sauntered up again but this time with a bottle of amber liquid in his hand, "What you needed help with, sweetheart?"

Beth looked at him from the side of her eyes and smiled briefly, "Just trying to sort out a problem, is all."

"Well shit Merle didn't D go to Motorcycle school over at Grace Field community?" The young boy took the items and began scanning.

Merle shrugged half hazard, "Don't think he finished. Why?"

"This one is looking for a mechanic." Kyle nodded his head towards Beth. In that instant she didn't know who she disliked more- Merle or the Clerk.

"No really I'm fine I just gotta make it to Princeton." She started to back out clutching the strap of her purse, "That bike still okay to use?"

"Well for fuck's sake sweetheart," Merle grabbed his items and threw a five on the counter, "Ain't fate a funny thing?"

Merle placed a hand on her shoulder her and steered her towards the gas station exit. Panic slowly swept over her as she assessed her situation. She was in a small town where she'd never been, there was no mechanic, it was hotter than hades, she had no cellphone, and now this man- who for all she know could be a murderer- had her under his thumb. She swallowed the growing lump in her throat, "You know what? I can just take that bike and ride to Princeton. I got an uncle there." She lied.

"That's not a Georgia drawl I hear?" He asked, ignoring her plea, "Where you from sweetheart."

Her stomach turned at his pet name for her, "I'm from Georgia- just not lately. And really- I'll just go."

She began to turn the other way- away from him- but felt his hard hand on her shoulder again, "Listen sweetheart I ain't gonna hurt you. Too pretty to hurt." He winked at her, "'Sides my baby brother can help with that car situation. A bike in this heat will kill 'fore I do."

Beth eyed him silently as she walked behind him towards a small truck parked skewed next to the ice refrigerator that was flush to the gas station. Beth stopped as he opened the passenger side door and she quickly stepped back, "I'll ride in the bed."

It took Merle less than an eighth of a second before he wiggled his eyebrows at her, "I bet you do, sweetheart."

She felt bile rise in her throat and swallowed again, hoping she masked the disgust. He chuckled to himself and slammed the door then began walking to the driver's side, "Well get in."

She waited hoping maybe he'd just leave. He watched her through the passenger window and visibly sighed, "Get in the truck. I'm tryin' ta help you- I don't do this erday, ya know."

She turned back and looked at the gas station to see the boy still hunched over the comic book, then down the road to see nothing and no one- just as desolate as before. Beth slowly walked to the back of the truck. She hoisted herself over the tailgate and sat with her back to the passenger side's chair. She stared blankly at the gas station across the street and wished she would have gone there instead.

One thing Merle was right was this- Fate is a funny thing.

She swallowed as he hit the side of his door signaling his take off and looked around her. On the floor of the truck bed there was wood, sand bags, beer cans, and some stray nails. Beth began creating things in her mind- she grabbed a handful of nails- the most rusted she could find, a splinter of wood, and then put some nails in an old beer can- maybe she could use that to notify people.

Beth put the wood and the majority of nails in her purse along with the can. She held the strap of her purse tightly across her chest as her flaxen hair whipped around her face. The air felt good on the back of her neck and arms as she laid her head back against the window watching the streets, memorizing the path, just to be sure.

The truck came to a slow crawl as they turned into a gravel rock driveway surrounded by Georgia pines. Beth took a deep breath and gripped the nails in her hands. Merle parked easily next to a lot of motorcycles, old vehicles, and a wooden home that was longstanding and not well kept. The front porch had old wicker furniture strewn about, the roof seemed to dip in the middle and the green shutters had seen better days.

"Home sweet home," Merle said. He got out of the vehicle and walked right past her, leaving her in the back of the truck. She watched as he walked right into the house not giving her a second thought. Beth slowly got out and waited.

A moment later Merle peaked his head out of the door, "He's out back working on some shit. Just go 'round."

She nodded to him and he was gone, disappearing into the shack once again. She bit the inside of her lip as she decided- all she needed to do was get her car fixed and make it to the farm; however that may be is up to chance. She squared her shoulders and walked around the side of the house, the sound of the White Stripes becoming louder with each step. She smelled cigarettes and gasoline then saw the culprit lying on the ground beside a motorcycle.

He was tall- even while lying down, He had shaggy brown hair and his arm muscles were huge. Beth felt her heart lurch a little… Biceps were her weakness. She took another step forward to get a better view of him. He fit in with the house, he had oil stained skin and his boots were a little dilapidated, his hair didn't look to have any particular part or style and the cigarette hung lamely from the side of his mouth and his mumbled to words to the chorus of the song. Beth felt a smile tug at the corners of her lips as he did so.

She cleared her throat, unsure of how to disturb him. He didn't hear her so she did it again. He flinched slightly and sat up laying his arm on the radiator of the bike. He looked up at her for a second in confusion then yelped, "Sonofabitch!"

It was her turn to flinch as he whipped his forearm away from the burning hot radiator. Out of natural reaction Beth ran to him, dropping the nails and taking his forearm in her hands, examining the burn. He tried to pull away but her grasp was firm. She twisted so she got better light, "It's not bad. Just get some cool water on it- have you got Neosporin?"

He didn't say anything which made her look up. When their eyes met she felt a jolt in her belly that she had to ignore when she realized that the look on his face was confusion, surprise, and most of all anger: "Who the hell are you?"

Beth felt her eyes widen and let go of his arm. She fell back on her heels, "I'm uh… I'm…" He shook his head at her, eyes wide. He waited and she finally caught her voice, "I'm Beth Greene. Merle said you could help me."

Daryl narrowed his eyes are her at the sound of his brother's name, "Merle don't know shit."

She stood then, unsure of what to do. Did she really walk 8 miles into a hell town only to be picked up by some creep promising salvation just to end up right back where she started; in the middle of nowhere, stranded but with the added bonus of being in company with some jerk?

She placed her hands on her hips, "I don't know what he knows- but I know he offered help and all I need is for someone in this god forsaken town to look at my car."

"I aint a Mechanic." He hissed, "You came to the wrong place. You own fault for trustin' someone like Merle." He muttered under his breath. Beth shifted her weight and watched as her turned his back to her, obviously trying to nurse his wounded arm.

"From the looks of it you at least know more than I do," She said, "I know you don't know me from Adam but I need your help."

He shook his head and looked at the bike he was working on, "m'sorry girl. Can't help you."

Beth narrowed her eyes at his back and felt the frustration threaten to bubble over. She took two steps forward and tapped his shoulder, "Let me see that arm," she put her hand out and curled her fingers, motioning for him to come on.

He didn't move, ignoring her with the best of his abilities. She gritted her teeth having enough of today. Beth moved around to the other side of the bike and took his arm from him again, this time he fought her harder, but she still won out as she ran a finger against the burn, "The hell?!"

"I asked you nicely the first time," She didn't look up at him. There was a bubble starting to form on his forearm and she tsked, "You got any Neosporin?"

He grumbled under his breath ensuring her what she already knew; he didn't. She wanted to at least get some antiseptic on in to prevent infection, "I do. In my car." She emphasized the last three words.

This time he really did pull away, "f'I take you to your damn car will you leave me 'lone?"

She held back a small smile, "After you fix my car and let me put somethin' on that burn you'll never see me again."

His shoulders slumped in defeat as he dropped a hand on the handle of the motorcycle he'd been working on. He looked over her head and mumbled something to the effect of, "Get myself in these situations."

Beth could have danced. She could have sang. She had a ticket out of this town and that tickets name was…

"What's your name?" She asked, catching him off guard.

"Daryl… Dixon."

Beth smiled and held her hand out, "I'm Beth Greene."

He didn't take it, sweeping past her towards the garage off to the left of her, "Well, Greene. les'go."

She watched him walk away, his narrow hips were cut by a leather jacket with angel wings sewn on the back making her smile. She smiled at the irony; maybe he wasn't an angel but he was her savior today. Beth began walking after him and said lightly to herself, "Whatever you say, Mr. Dixon."


End file.
